


i'm like a stranger, gimme me danger (all your wrongs and your rights)

by ahatfullofoctarine (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Matt Holt, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, Meet-Ugly, Pre-Relationship, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-17 18:58:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16101782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ahatfullofoctarine
Summary: Shiro's not the only one with a reputation that precedes him.Alternatively:Shiro +  Matt = MeetDisasterCuteGarrison Fic.





	i'm like a stranger, gimme me danger (all your wrongs and your rights)

**Author's Note:**

> *jumps out from behind the bushes* new ship who dis
> 
> special thanks to [kunfetti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kunfetti/pseuds/Kunfetti) \-- this would have been a much messier piece without your concrit щ(▼ﾛ▼щ)
> 
> shout out also to the super chill, supes _enably_ crew members of the shatt ship whose enthusiasm is much too infectious to continue sailing without at least contributing. you're all mint!
> 
> EDIT: 1/10/18 - we have a shatt/miro server, where there is a lot of enabling and just straight up love for shiro x matt. just hit up the folks @ shattsunday on tumblr for an invite :D

There are signs, and then there's the foundation-shaking explosion that rocks the Galaxy Garrison's C Block in the early hours of what is supposed to be Takashi Shirogane's routine, _uneventful_ , Saturday morning jog. 

In hindsight that should have been Shiro's first clue the universe wasn't at all being subtle.  

In _fairness_ , however, it’s not something anyone would have time to contemplate, having come across an unmoving body just a few feet out from the explosion site they've dropped everything and run towards.  Therefore, hindsight notwithstanding on this auspicious day--Shiro's just satisfied his mandatory First Aid Refresher hadn't been a complete waste of an afternoon, because whatever story there is waiting in the wings to explain why the top floor of C Block is on fire, will make for a more positive conversation starter when he meets Adam over coffee later on.

"Come on, _come on_ , don't you dare die on me," Shiro mutters, in between chest compressions and rescue breaths.

The would-be corpse coughs, sputtering back to life. Opens his eyes.

There's no weak rasp of 'Where am I?' or 'What...happened?' that Shiro's waiting to hear. Instead, this guy-- _this fucking guy_ who must be ten ways concussed till Sunday--takes three long seconds to give Shiro the most blatantly shameless once-over in the history of  blatantly shameless once-overs that Takashi Shirogane has _ever_ experienced in his whole twenty-two years of life, and proclaims, _very_ clearly:

" _Nice_."  

All the while nodding and grinning up at Shiro with a smile that manages to dazzle through all the soot.  

Shiro swallows.

He can't decide which he should be more bemused and worried over: a) how confident this dude is in spite of the fact that his eyebrows and sections of his hair have been singed off; or b) the way his chest tightens by just the tiniest, traitorous amount, because that is not a line that's barely had even a smidgen of a success rate where Shiro's concerned.

"What is?" Shiro asks.  He's wary of the answer with the way this dreamboat's swooning up at him, but Keep Them Talking is just as critical an aspect of First Aid as the physical stuff.

He gets the sense there isn't a deficit in that department for this guy, though.  Reason being: when he tunes in again--having done a quick scan and found only superficial cuts and scrapes to warrant no pressing cause for concern--the guy's still listing off answers to Shiro's question, and apparently has been for a straight two minutes without noticing Shiro's lack of input.  It's to the point where Shiro knows he could leave, grab a coffee and return and he'd be none the wiser.

Shiro doesn't move.  

Half of it's out of concern, the other half is because the guy's sprung to his feet with all the energy of someone who wasn't seconds away from being pronounced legally dead.  He tears off the charred remnants of his bulky bomb suit to reveal a skintight bodysuit--the kind for withstanding extreme temperatures in deep space; most likely pilfered without Iverson's knowledge--and lobs the bomb suit pieces at the nearest bin. He misses by such an obscene margin that Shiro suspects has nothing to do with purposely terrible aim and more to do with terrible eyesight: he has telltale nose pad marks on the bridge of his nose, and no glasses in sight. The partially disintegrated gloves are next to go, and fare an even worse fate: land on some girl's yoga mat while she's in the middle of tiger pose.

"...honey bees, frozen strawberry yoghurt, hot dogs, dogs, new friends." The guy sticks out a hand, which Shiro accepts, awkwardly.  Awkward, because over the guy's shoulder Yoga Girl has her middle digit up in salute and Shiro looks like an accomplice.  

A vice-like grip brings Shiro back to centre, and while not painful, he does find himself frowning a little. It's not a handshake you'd typically expect from someone built like a pool noodle and roughly the size of a pixel.  Mostly the glaringly noticeable height difference is what makes this situation even more--not exactly _worse_ , or _weird_ , just that much more _unbelievable_. Difficult to reconcile.

_This scrawny little thing did that to C Block?_

Shiro's gaze shifts between the shattered windows of the second floor to the crater he found him in, measuring, trying to figure out the trajectory, but more importantly how the hell he's still alive. Without the bomb suit he's almost a size smaller--if at all possible.  Not a lot of natural cushioning available to protect from the impact.

"Matthew Holt.  I'm--" the guy pauses, shuddering. " _God_ , so weird saying your own name, right? Not that I don't like it, I mean, Matthew's a great name--'gift from God' blah blah blah. Just feels like I'm scolding myself, you know?" Shiro doesn't but he nods anyway. "Whatever, 'Matt' for short. I'm going to save the planet."

"A little counter-intuitive, though.  Blowing it up?" Shiro can't help but tease--this guy's got spunk, it'd be impossible not to.  Plus, he's sure he's heard that last name somewhere. Or seen someplace--perhaps in one of the newsletters.

"Ohho _ho_ , and he's _funny_ , too. I love it." Matt says, elbowing him in the ribs. It's a playful familiarity that startles Shiro--not because the act is unwelcome, but because it _isn't_.

"Seriously though, I think you might be concussed."

"How would you know? Have _you_ ever been concussed?"

"I found you in a crater.   _Unconscious_." Shiro emphasizes. Now he knows to add 'selective memory' to the list.

"Bold of you to assume that crater wasn't _already there_ when you got here.”  Matt says triumphantly when Shiro's eyes shift to the ground to verify it, bursting into laughter. “Ha! Made you look!"

Shiro's ears heat up. _What is he, five?_    "I rescind what I said earlier." He declares, powering through it. "You're not concussed; you're a shit."

"Ah well, one tries." Matt grins, and, _goddamn it_ , that wrangles a surprised laugh out of Shiro.

He wouldn't go so far as to assume Matt's harmless, given the alarms ringing in all directions. The firefighters give Matt a cursory nod as they pass and the questionable way he adapts to situations raise a few internal alarms of Shiro's own, too.  Namely: the fact that Matt's first response to waking up to some stranger is to flirt and introduce himself.

Yet knowing all this, Shiro still feels this easy, somehow elusive camaraderie that doesn't come with the territory of having the kind of culty hero-worship status he has at the Garrison. In fact, it runs contra to what he's used to: people more interested in reciting his achievements-- _like he wasn't there to accomplish them_ \--to talk about anything else.

Matt barrels right past like he couldn't care less.  Actually, he's the first who has the audacity to make the whole thing about _himself_.  In doing so however, he gets to a place most people don't with Shiro until five separate interactions later.

Definitely a friendship Shiro can see himself investing in for the long haul.

Shiro's spot on for a good sixty per cent of that analysis. The rest of it lies in that shit-eating _grin_ , but he won't realize this till years later down the track. It's good for a number of reasons, the main one being that Matthew Giuseppe Garibaldi Holt has the capacity to be _painfully_ oblivious, no matter how many PHDs he collects. He's the dumbest, most intelligent man Shiro will ever meet, and ever have the misfortune in _falling for_.  

"Guess one can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs." Shiro concedes.

"Or labs.  Perks of having a research grant.  But enough about me, yammering in the presence of greatness. You're the man himself, aren't you? Takashi Shirogane, right?"

Shiro goes quiet as he waits for the rest, shoulders slumping. Maybe that earlier assumption had been premature.

_Here it comes._

"Your boy Adam's in my study group and everyone asks about you _constantly_. Also just so you know--I'm gonna beat your high score on Galaga." Shiro blinks a few times.  Matt's expression turns apologetic. "Ah, sorry, making it about myself again. But Christ, if I had someone asking about _Ashley_ 24/8 I think I'd-- _crap_. There I go again, making it about _me_ \--"

" _MATTHEW HOLT. REPORT TO THE COMMANDER'S OFFICE._ " The PA system drones, somehow resigned and bored at the same time.  

Matt makes a rude gesture at the overhead security camera angled their way.  

"Oh. You're _that_ Matt." Shiro realizes.  

There's a guy on campus with that name who, although brilliant, cannot be trusted to share lab space with others in the interests of keeping potential lawsuits to a minimum. Rumor has it the OHS Committee has a dedicated whiteboard for counting the days in between incidents.

The current record is an _hour_.

"Eh, Matt's a common name.  Like. That could have been _anyone's_ electrical arc furnace," Matt says with a dismissive wave, as if destroying Garrison property is of little consequence.

" _MATTHEW. HOLT_." The speaker box repeats and Shiro can practically visualize Commander Iverson glaring from the other end of the security camera lens, if that sudden hostile tone is anything to go by.  " _IF I HAVE TO COME DOWN THERE MYSELF_ \--"

Shiro's amazed he's able to keep a straight face with all the ones Matt's making right now. He touches Matt's shoulder--not that there's much real estate, the guy is _tiny_.

"You should go. It'll be worse the longer you put it off."

"Nah, Mitch's a big softie. Underneath. I hope."

Matt takes five steps when he stops, whirling back to face him, all trace of playful teasing gone.

"No biggie, but if anyone asks--"

"Could have been anyone's electrical arc furnace." Shiro's not quite able to stop one corner of his mouth from quirking upward.  Matt's is not an energy that's easily repelled.

Matt's face breaks into a smile that doesn't waver, not even in the face of campus security when they roll up in their golf cart and haul him off.

"Oh _man_. I _knew_ you were cool!" Matt calls, his voice echoing the further and further away he gets. "Wait till Pidge hears about this! _Ow_! Jesus Mary Magdalene watch where you--ow!"

They disappear around a corner, Shiro shaking his head, half in disbelief and half mirth as he turns and starts for his dorm, feeling a paradoxical weightlessness filling his chest.  

_I just met Matt the Maniac._

Perhaps some of that weightlessness spreads to Shiro's feet, too.  If not he wouldn't have stopped in time, and crushed a pair of glasses underfoot. There are initials engraved on each of the arms--not that Shiro needs help figuring out this mystery.

 _"M.H."_ Shiroreads aloud, holding the lenses up to his own eyes, chuckling at just how strong the prescription is.

 _Guess I'll be_ seeing you _later._


End file.
